


Albariño

by Harukami



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 21:17:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3264638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harukami/pseuds/Harukami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mizuki is released from hospital and slowly rebuilds his life and his trust with Dry Juice. It's not too long before he opens it to new members, and a quiet, strange young man joins. Some months later, on Valentine's Day when most of his gang are off doing Valentine's Day things, he gets a chance to become friends with this young man, to try to understand him and perhaps understand himself a little more by doing so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Albariño

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aoiifa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoiifa/gifts).



Mizuki doesn't feel like he deserves Dry Juice's support, but he has it. He has it in the hospital as he recovers; some visit during his lucid periods to cheer him up and, the first time it happens, he cries. It's embarrassing, especially hooked up to machines to monitor his health as he is; he can't pretend it's not happening, not when all the details about his reactions are recorded through the medical Allmate technology and sent out so the doctors can track his state at all times. He knows this sort of thing is necessary, of course; they need to be aware of when his worst moments hit so they can tranquilize him. 

Not all the members support him, of course, and he considers that fair. It's only right. Instead of letting them go out and do their thing at the risk of losing them, he trapped them, tortured them into the same thing he was dealing with. Not many have recovered, many of the ones who _had_ recovered leave him. But it's enough that when he gets out of the hospital, when he's finally well enough, and lucid enough, and almost -- if not quite, and maybe never will be again -- his old self, he reestablishes territory, opens Dry Juice to new members.

Growth is slow, but he doesn't have much else to focus on anyway. Aoba's gone off to Germany, and it's not like it's easy for Mizuki to follow up on that friendship; he's stalled out in his tattoo business and creative works, and while the bar's hopping, that's more of a job than it is a hobby. Koujaku comes around once in a while, but he's busy with his own things, and Koujaku too misses Aoba, of course, so ...that is how it is.

A year and a bit after he gets out of the hospital, a young man comes up to him asking to talk. He doesn't look well, definitely doesn't look like a Rib scrapper -- pale and thin, his black hair lacking any shine of health, his dark eyes sunken, and the stark monochrome tones of his outfit only making him look paler. But he insists he wants to join Dry Juice, quiet and without any real sign of life in his eyes.

"You don't look up to handling Rib," Mizuki says.

"I just got out of the hospital," the young man says. "I was in there for a long time. So of course I'm not well. But I'll be fine. I don't worry about violence."

Mizuki shakes his head. Well, Dry Juice isn't all scrappers, anyway, and has never been just that. "Why do you want to join?" he asks instead. 

The young man tilts his head, his shoulder-length black hair falling to the side limply. "...It's only fair," he says, finally.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's my answer."

A bit of a weird one. Mizuki hesitates, watching him. "I always want," he begins carefully, "for Dry Juice to be a family, not just a team. It hasn't always gone well. But... I want us to be able to watch out for one another, care for one another, in ways that our actual families might not. You might not be comfortable with that degree of assumed closeness."

"I might not be," the young man says, but his dark eyes have finally changed; there's a weird look in them, a hunger, and Mizuki can't say he's unfamiliar with the idea, so who is he to say no? If Dry Juice isn't a good fit for him, he'll leave. 

Mizuki understands that much fully now.

"Welcome aboard, then," Mizuki says, and offers a hand and a smile. "I'm Mizuki."

That thin, white hand slips into his, shakes. The new recruit doesn't smile, just looks at him. It doesn't look like he's happy to be here, not exactly, though there's a weird sort of relief around him. Mizuki wants to understand it, but doesn't want to pry. Everyone has their secrets.

"I'm Sei," the young man says.

***

Sei _doesn't_ quite fit into Dry Juice, Mizuki notices as time passes, but doesn't leave either. During get-togethers, he hovers near the edges like a ghost, seeming overwhelmed and tired. Sometimes he curls up and hugs his knees and seems to go away, catatonic. He might be an addict, Mizuki thinks, or at least a former addict; Mizuki has caught glimpses of injection scars along the insides of his arms sometimes, on the rare event that Sei has rolled up his sleeves to do this or that. But the moments where he stops reacting to the world around him aside, Sei doesn't seem to have any of the behaviors Mizuki's used to with druggies, none of the mood-swings or paranoia. Sei's always, seemingly, set on the same setting: a withdrawn exhaustion.

If anything, he seems more like what Mizuki had once thought was a Rhyme burnout but he has since come to understand were the results of Morphine's _experiments_ on the population. Though, those ones -- the badly off ones, zoned out and vegetative rather than the obedient zombies Dry Juice mostly became -- haven't recovered. He hasn't heard of any cases like Sei's, where they go in and out of that state. Mizuki thinks about this sometimes when he catches Sei leaning against a crate like his body's empty and his mind is elsewhere. Perhaps there are more cases than the ones he knows about. Maybe the reason Sei was so evasive when he came to ask to join was because he knew what Morphine had done to Mizuki, what Mizuki had unwittingly let them do. Perhaps that's why he thought it was "fair", somehow.

Still, he doesn't get much of a chance for one-on-one conversations with Sei. There are always other people on the team to talk to, to rebuild trust with. And when he _does_ find the time to go talk to Sei himself, it seems like Sei is nowhere in sight, or talking to someone else himself.

Which is strange enough, as Sei never seems to engage the others at any other time. But, Mizuki thinks, that doesn't make any sense. There's no way that Sei would be talking to others just to avoid Mizuki's questions. He must have been doing so normally, and Mizuki just hasn't noticed, busy as he's been.

***

Their chance to talk, to actually be alone together, comes some months later and -- ironically -- it's on Valentine's Day.

Just about everyone has girlfriends, or has at least been trying to get a girl, and most of the team begs out of hanging out as a result. Mizuki, too, doesn't think he's going to be around much since special occasions are always incredibly busy at the bar, but his backup bartender, Sasaki, asks to be allowed to work that day because he'd just broke up with his girlfriend and needed to be kept busy. Mizuki protests, of course, that it probably won't be a lot of fun -- between guys taking their girlfriends to the bar and lonely singles drowning their sorrows, it will hardly take Sasaki's mind off things -- but he insists with an almost bizarre intensity. He _needs_ to work tonight. It's a bit out of character for Sasaki, Mizuki thinks, but of course he allows it. If Sasaki hadn't taken over and kept things running at the bar during the time he was in hospital, there wouldn't _be_ a Black Needle any more, so pretty much anything he wants is fine. 

Lacking anything else to do, Mizuki goes to the meet-up point. Even if it's only a few stragglers, better they be around family than alone.

But Sei is literally the only one who shows up.

They wait a while, in not-quite-companionable silence, Mizuki sketching on some paper while Sei sits and stares into space. His design doesn't come out right -- none of them have been, not since the incident; when he tries to think about tattoo design his head gets all fogged up, dark -- and eventually he sighs and puts his notebook to the side, smiling over at Sei.

"Looks like it's just you and me today," he says, his tone easy.

"Oh," Sei says. "Yes, it is." There's no surprise in his voice; no discomfort. For a moment, Mizuki thinks that it almost seems deliberate, but he laughs it off a moment later, shaking his head. It's a day people are busy with their loved ones; that's all. Sei knows that as well as he does, so it's only natural he isn't surprised. He really had to stop this paranoia, this trend of seeing conspiracy and plots everywhere.

"No girlfriend?" Mizuki asks.

Sei shrugs one shoulder. "What about you?"

"I've been a bit busy with team instead. Plus, well--" He doesn't quite say it, that even though he was fit enough to be discharged, and has been out of the hospital for years, he still has moments of hallucination, still doesn't trust himself quite enough to let himself get too close to others. "Cute guy like you could get anyone, though."

"Mm. Yes," Sei says. "I really could get anyone I want. But I don't."

"Don't?"

"Want," Sei says. He lets out a breath, and then gets up, comes closer to Mizuki, sits down across from him, and leans forward, forearms on his knees. His completely dark gaze has that weird, void-like intensity. "Well, that's not true. But I was never allowed to want anything."

"Huh...?"

Sei breaks their joined gaze; it's like a tangible pressure lifting. "It's hard to explain."

"I don't mind," Mizuki says, "if you want to try."

He has a sense, suddenly, that this awkward person in front of him has maybe never tried to explain anything. That his disjointedness, his lack of fitting in, his tendency to space out is part of that, part of whatever 'I was never allowed to' means to him. Mizuki knows that he can't let himself be responsible for that, but he can't help but want to reach out, either. That's fine, though, he thinks. Offer, but don't beat yourself up if he doesn't want it. There's no trust there to break if you're not trying to hold the other person up.

For a long moment, Sei is silent. Then he lets out an audible breath, lips twisting. "I had... strict parents," he says, in a tone that makes it sound like a lie. "I wasn't allowed to do anything except what they wanted. Ever. And what he wanted was bad. But I did it, because I couldn't not. Some of those things were terrible, and I don't feel any guilt or regret, and I don't mind that he made me do it. But I know that I should, because I still did it. I didn't have 'a choice'. But I 'chose to do it'. Both are real. They exist at the same time. That was my life."

There's nothing about that which makes sense, but Mizuki nods, makes an encouraging noise.

"Even when I tried to get what I wanted," Sei says, haltingly, "I did so with his means. Maybe I'm not as good at it as he was, because I'm still here. Things happened. I went to the hospital. Those two said that it would be funny to see me deal with actual freedom. So they let me go. But I have nowhere to go. I shouldn't have been released."

"Do you think you were discharged too early?"

"I don't know," Sei says. Then, "That's not it."

"Guess not," Mizuki says. "I don't know if I understand the specifics, but it sounds to me like you're not used to acting on your own. So you came to Dry Juice as a support. A structure to fit into so you weren't on your own."

"Maybe. ...No, that's not it."

Mizuki nods amicably enough, even though the conversation is still a mystery to him. But he understands, at least, some parts of it. Feeling like you don't have a choice, and picking the wrong choice out of that non-choice... "Let's go out somewhere, Sei. Not just sit around."

"Out somewhere...?"

"As friends," Mizuki clarifies, because, of course, it _is_ Valentine's Day, and because Sei had already said he didn't want to get with anyone. "We can do something fun."

Sei stares at him, head tilting slightly. Those unnerving eyes are focused on him, but Sei's brows are furrowed, lips slightly parted. "Are we friends?"

"Probably not yet," Mizuki says. "But you can become friends by doing things friends do."

"Can you...?" Sei's mouth twists a little. "That sounds like mixing the categories."

"Categories mix," Mizuki agrees. "Feelings, interacting with people, that takes practice, you know? That's what I'm doing right now."

Sei pulls his arms off his knees, straightens. "You are?"

"Yeah. I was away from Dry Juice for a long time. Actually, it's complicated--" that's putting it lightly "--but I don't really deserve Dry Juice. Or, that's how I feel. But being 'Dry Juice's Head' is important to me, and creating a family out of Dry Juice, that's important too. A place where anyone who needs a family can belong." He sighs. It's embarrassing, laying it all out like that, but the person in front of him seems to need it. "So even though I feel unworthy, I'm practicing being that until it comes naturally again. So, do you want to go out somewhere?"

For a moment, he doesn't think Sei will be able to respond. He opens his mouth, closes it, looks unhappy, then opens it again: "Okay."

"Where to?"

"...I don't know."

"Anywhere you'd like to go visit. Something you'd like to see. Doesn't matter what, we'll treat ourselves," Mizuki says.

"I don't know," Sei says again, frustrated.

Mizuki laughs. "Sorry, was that pushy? There's no wrong or right answer. But I won't pick for you. Just name a place. If you don't have fun after all -- well, that happens sometimes."

Another long silence, then Sei's shoulders seem to slump. "Allmates," he says.

"Hah?"

"I want to look at Allmates." He sounds out the words as if he's feeling the shape of them in his mouth. Mizuki thinks he might be; if what he says is true, if his wants never mattered, saying a blunt statement like that might be new.

Mizuki, of course, doesn't want to look at Allmates. The ones that his friends have are fine, and he's not going to be anti-Allmate for the principle or whatever, but he's never really understood the appeal of them, of treating false things like that as real. But maybe that's his own problem, he thinks. His stubbornness about Rhyme was the same thing.

"All right," he says.

***

So they go to an Allmate store. Mizuki picks one that he knows of; offers his arm like he's Koujaku and Sei's one of his girls or something and, obligingly, leads the way. It's nothing too fancy -- he's heard of some of the shops in Platinum Jail and that they've got the best, but he'd asked Sei if he'd wanted to go to one of those, and Sei just shook his head.

"No," he'd said. "I've been to those."

Which is a bit weird, another incomprehensible puzzle piece to add to the set he keeps picking up from Sei. But he'd swallowed his immediate confusion, and took Sei to the shop he'd first thought of.

The Allmate shop used to be a general pawn shop, and it still has some of the original signage, crossed over with paint, a struck-out _Jewelry and electronics for cash_. 

"This doesn't look like an Allmate vendor," Sei says. "Even in the Residential District, there are official outlets, aren't there? For lower-end models."

"You're right," Mizuki says. "There are some, but I thought you might find this more interesting."

He pushes open the door and, with a brief hesitation, Sei enters.

As Sei had noticed, the shop has never been an official vendor of Allmate products. Rather, it's a used shop. Lining the shelves are sleeping Allmates whose owners sold them when they upgraded to new products, some as-is, some refurbished. A few, the better show models, wander the floor; with their registration taken offline and their owners chips changed, they have no way to become active as their own proper AI personalities and are entirely in their display mode, following idle paths through the store.

"Oh," Sei says.

"If you're looking to get one, something like this will probably be in your financial range," Mizuki says. "As I understand it, most of these are outdated models, but they still work well. Aoba's Ren is at least fifteen years old at this point, but Aoba keeps him in top form."

Sei's arm slides from Mizuki's and he tucks his hands behind his back, folding his fingers together as he wanders between the shelves, looking at models. Mizuki goes with him, watching Sei more than the Allmates. 

"So people come here," Sei says, "to sell off Allmates they don't want any more."

"Yeah. Some people can't bring themselves to. They view their Allmates like a real person, a real companion," Mizuki says. "So of course they can't trade them in for a better model. Others view them as a machine, so it's only natural to upgrade when something good enough comes out and makes it worth the bother of switching over. And then there's probably cases where they break down and someone can't afford to repair them, so they sell them back for cash and the shop fixes them up and sells it to someone else. Well, that's how it goes with Coils as well."

Sei says, after a brief, halting moment, "They are real companions. Even if they aren't real people."

"Ah, do you think like that?"

"It's not about how I think," Sei says. "That's how they're programmed. They have thoughts and feelings. They're limited, and based on algorithms, on behavioral trees and priorities, but those emotions exist even if they're artificial and narrow. It's possible to change human beings, too, to have narrow feelings and behaviors, you know. To program them."

"...I know," Mizuki says. His throat itches, and he taps his fingers on it a few times, how he's learned to scratch to avoid disturbing the bandages. "Well, even so, they're machines."

"Don't you think there might be something real that lies between person and machine?" Sei asks. "There are human beings with no autonomy at all, and there are machines that will never have true autonomy, but can think and feel and make choices based on the information they have..."

Mizuki makes to protest, then sighs, smiling and dropping his head forward. "You could be right. Did you ever have one? An Allmate."

"Oh... no. My father did, though."

"Did you like it?"

"Mm," Sei says. His hands, behind his back still, fidget. "I don't know. It's hard to say. No, of course I did. I liked all Allmates. But in some ways, my father preferred that one over me. His Allmate could do a lot more than I could. I was sick often. You could say he conflated the Allmate with me in some ways. That Allmate was the intersection between my father and myself, where we both were connected and controlled."

"Yet you're still speaking up to defend Allmates-?"

"That's not the Allmate's fault," Sei says. Then, almost guilty, "...It's not even my father's fault. It's just how things were."

Mizuki says, "You don't have to speak up on your father's behalf either."

"...Mm."

"Did you ever play it? Rhyme, I mean."

Sei lets out a soft laugh. He reaches up, plucking a small gold bird off the shelf, looking at its motionless, sleeping form. "You could say that. I did, yes."

"Mm," Mizuki says. "I always thought that was a way for people to escape the real world. Allmates and Rhyme and all that. Pretending the real isn't real and the unreal is."

"It might be," Sei says. "But what's wrong with that? Everyone does it, whether they use machines as the vehicle for that feeling or not. You've done it, haven't you?"

"I have," Mizuki says, after a brief, painful pause. 

"You're doing it now," Sei says. "You told me before you came out. You're trying to create a 'family' and recreate yourself as the 'head'. Practicing something unreal until it becomes your reality. That's what you said. You told me that to reassure me. So why is it wrong if to use a machine to do it?"

Mizuki stares at him for a long moment. His heart feels like it's clenching, shying away from that hot thought, and then slowly relaxes around the shape of it. It's not like he hasn't realized since then, either, that he was blaming the wrong thing, seeing Rhyme and the desire to play it as the enemy. It was easier to think that something evil was seducing his family away from him than just face the fact that what he had to offer wasn't enough by itself.

"It isn't wrong," Mizuki says. Then: "Do you want that Allmate?"

"...Oh," Sei says. He puts the bird on the shelf. "I can't have one."

"Why?"

"Mm," Sei says. "I could but... I don't know. I don't think I should. Picking one out of all of them to make special to me would be strange right now. I can visit all of them so it's hard to think of like that."

"Visit...?"

"What about you?" Sei asks, with a sudden impish tone.

He's sure his double take is actually visible. "What, me-?"

"You could get an Allmate. A companion would be good for you," Sei says, smiling up at him. "Shall we pick one out for you? You can give something sad and abandoned a second home."

He makes to protest, then shakes his head. "It won't be sad and abandoned. It'll have its memory wiped."

"Forgetting things doesn't make an experience not happen," Sei says. "The experience exists, regardless of what someone does and doesn't recall. How about it?"

Mizuki ducks his head and laughs. "All right. Fine. Not the bird, though. Koujaku's got one and he'd tell me I'm trying to steal his schtick. Beni'd have words for me too."

"Hmm, let me see..." Sei runs fingers along the shelves, searching almost with touch as much as his eyes, and abruptly taking one down. "How about this?"

The Allmate is absolutely _Sei's_ aesthetic, not Mizuki's: a stoat in its winter ermine coat, white with a black tail tip. "It looks like another you," Mizuki says, joking.

Sei's smile fades at once. "Ah," he says, and starts to put it back on the shelf.

"No, I'll take it," Mizuki says, and takes it from him. It's quiet and limp in his hands. "I just meant the color. It's like you. A stoat's brown summer coat would suit me better, probably."

"The fur color can't change," Sei says, almost apologetically, as if he has some stake in it. "Not like a living animal. You can change the sleekness and fluffiness in the settings by altering the angles it comes out at, but unless you get it redone, it'll be this color..."

"Yeah, but that's not the Allmate's fault," Mizuki says, and takes the stoat to the front.

***

Once he's purchased it, he invites Sei back to his apartment to help him set it up. "You seem on top of these mechanical things, so I'll rely on you."

"Eh... your place," Sei says. "Is that okay...?"

"Of course," Mizuki says. "Well, it's kind of a mess, since I hadn't planned on having company, but if that won't bother you?"

Sei smiles, the expression strangely careful. "It won't bother me... I'm interested to see what a normal apartment is like."

"A normal one, huh," Mizuki says, prompting, and as Sei's face falls again, he decides it's not worth following up on that after all. "Yeah, well, I'm not sure I'd call it normal, exactly; it might be a little _too_ messy for that... but sure, you can see it."

He leads Sei there, checks the mail before heading up to his flat. Sei tilts his head as if with sudden realization, glancing around.

"What is it?" Mizuki asks.

"Oh, it... mm," Sei says. "I just remembered, it's Valentine's Day. Don't girls usually give chocolate on Valentine's Day?"

Mizuki shrugs. "Yeah?"

"Why don't you have any?"

It's asked innocently enough that he has to laugh, putting a hand over his heart. "Ouch. You think I didn't get any?"

"Well -- the mail--"

"Why would I get it at my apartment?" Mizuki says, reaching over to ruffle Sei's hair, something that makes Sei go very still. Mizuki pushes on as if he hadn't noticed. "...Any regulars of mine would take it to the bar, and ladies in in the gang would drop it off at headquarters. I'll probably end up with a few boxes once I swing back over to those two places." And then, mock-hurt: "You _really_ thought I wouldn't get any?"

Sei widens his eyes at Mizuki. "I really thought you wouldn't."

"That hurts, man," Mizuki says, careful to pitch his tone so Sei will know it doesn't. Something about the exchange seems to work, and Sei relaxes again, reaching up to fix his own hair as Mizuki gets the door open. "But it's fine. I got something nicer today anyway."

"What?"

"You know what," Mizuki says. "Help me pick a name."

Sei doesn't respond immediately, stepping into the entryway and starting to take his boots off, then stopping in place. "...Mizuki... are those your boxers?"

"I told you it was a mess!" He darts past, scooping them up along with a discarded pair of pants and a single sock. "Don't get on my case."

"...Why are they in the entryway...?"

"Don't you ever get home and just need to get changed immediately?"

"...No."

"You're making me feel like a slob," Mizuki groans, dumping his clothes in his bedroom and coming back. "Hang on, wait there while I pick up a few cans."

Sei is smiling, though, almost seeming like he can't help it. "I don't mind. Do you want me to help?"

"I want you to pretend not to see the mess."

"What mess?" Sei says.

"Good," Mizuki says. He does pick up a few cans, though, and gestures Sei over to his living room table to take a seat, pulling out the Allmate and installation kit as he goes. "Jeez, you really need to inject yourself to get an Allmate? Seems weird."

A bit hesitantly still, Sei comes over and sits across from him, hugging his knees. "Only if you haven't had a chip installed before," he says. "The Allmate needs to recognize you when you register your chip and it together. The chip's small and becomes active as soon as it's subdermal, so it's really just a quick prick and you're done."

"Ugh, I hate needles," Mizuki says. "Isn't that embarrassing? I'm a tattoo artist and I've developed an aversion to needles. Too long in the hospital, maybe." He knows that's not why, but the other isn't worth bringing up. His throat itches again, and he resists the urge to tap it, suddenly aware of how Sei's watching him.

"Really? They don't bother me at all." Sei picks up the bagged needle. "Shall I do it to you?"

It doesn't reassure Mizuki that Sei isn't -- or wasn't -- any kind of junkie, but on the other hand, he'd rather have a needle given to him by someone used to them. He strips his jacket off, rolls up his sleeve. It feels momentous, in a weird way. He's marked his body with ink many times, both willingly and not, but he's avoided everything to do with this. Accepting an Allmate is one thing; connecting to it, to every bit of digital reality... even knowing his own mistakes, even acknowledging them, he can't quite stop his habitual revulsion. 

"Go on," he says.

Sei doesn't have any wasted movement; he unbags the needle, takes it in a firm grip, and gives Mizuki a quick jab. The dust-sized chip is pushed under his skin. He can't even feel it there. 

"Is it actually in-?"

"It's in," Sei says. "You're connected." He smiles, and it has a genuine look to it, like he's legitimately pleased, maybe proud, maybe relieved. Mizuki feels the urge to ruffle his hair again, considers fighting it, then does it anyway. This time, Sei doesn't tense up. Perhaps he just hadn't expected anything like that before.

"So, a name," Mizuki says. "Thoughts?"

"Mm..." Sei considers, tucking some hair behind an ear, gently tidying himself after Mizuki's affectionate gesture. "There's a wide variety of options, isn't there? My father named his Allmate after himself, just using different terms to reach the same meaning. Some people may get Allmates with a friend and pick matching names, or pick something they would name a pet... What do you want to do?"

Mizuki rubs the back of his neck. "I guess I'd like to make it work with my Rib team, something alcohol-themed," he says. "Dry Juice is named because of my work, and it'd be nice to tie it in... though I don't know if I'd go as far with it as Koujaku did."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It's absurd," Mizuki says. "Red sparrows everywhere."

"That's right, color's popular for naming schemes as well. You could go for a white wine?"

That works; a white wine to go with his standard reds. It'd fit the stoat's white fur, and maybe tie things back, if only a little, to Sei's monochrome coloring. "Good point," Mizuki says. "How does Albariño sound to you?"

"Albariño... that's a wine?"

"It's a nice Spanish dry white," Mizuki says. "Very citrusy. I'll give you a taste if you come by my bar sometime."

Sei smiles again. "If I came by your bar, it would be to see you, not drink."

"Might as well drink while you're there! Alba for short for the Allmate, I think."

"Alba... that's cute."

Registration goes quickly with Sei walking him through it. He gets himself recognized as the owner, and goes into the systems settings to tweak things for a while before moving on, surprised to find that he's actually having a little fun imagining what sort of character would be created as a result of his efforts.

"Gender? What do you think?"

"It's all the same to me," Sei says. "What do you think you'd enjoy most?"

"Hmm. Its appearance is good for a nice lady, but then I'll have to deal with Koujaku hitting on my Allmate, and I'm not sure I could handle that. So I guess it's boy or neutral."

"My father's Allmate was neutral," Sei says. "Though I don't think it was for any good reason. My father was very much about the concept of the melded identity rather than individuality."

"Well, let's make them an individual, then, and neutral," Mizuki says. He doesn't linger on it, doesn't make Sei say more, just acknowledges it and moves on. "For temperament -- patient, I think. Heaven knows Alba'll have to handle Beni trying to size them up, so better plan for that--"

Sei laughs softly, and Mizuki looks up at the sudden soft pressure against his side; Sei has listed against him, is leaning up and watching the screen with him, warm and comfortable. "It sounds," Sei says, "like you're making the Allmate for that Koujaku, not yourself."

"Nah, I just know Koujaku'll have words for me," Mizuki says, a little chagrined, and puts an arm around Sei as casually as he can. "He always acts like I'm a geezer who can't handle technology, you know? But I think ... I'd like the Allmate to be someone a bit sweet, a bit teasing. Do you think that'll happen with a general temperament like 'patient'?"

"Mm. It describes an emotional range," Sei says. "The Allmate itself... Alba will respond to you, become a person who emotionally fits you well. Not a mirror of yourself, but someone who complements you." 

"That sounds nice," Mizuki says.

Sei looks up at him, a hint of warmth in those dark eyes. "It does, doesn't it?"

The rest of the set-up goes quickly, Sei glancing over the settings and confirming everything's in order. After Mizuki has made him double check and triple check, Sei laughs, and -- weirdly light -- presses a finger into Mizuki's side. "Don't delay any more," he says. 

"All right, all right." Mizuki draws a deep breath and lets it out, putting his fingertips on the stoat's forehead. "Alba, wake up."

The Allmate's eyes flicker open. Alba's voice, when it comes out, is mild and pleased and inquisitive: "Good afternoon, Mizuki. It's my pleasure to make your acquaintance."

He'd worried, at first, that it would be difficult to talk to 'his' Allmate, even if he'd gotten used to talking to his friends' ones -- but found it wasn't at all, given an easy conversational lead like that. "Afternoon, Alba. I'm happy to meet you." 

Mizuki holds out a hand to Albariño's nose like offering it to a real animal as an introduction; the stoat rests their head on his hand instead, gazing up at him before abruptly rising and scurrying up his arm to drape around his shoulder, watching Sei. Startled by the sudden movement, Mizuki starts, then laughs, gesturing with the other arm, still around Sei. "This is Sei. He's a friend and a teammate."

"Sei, is it..." Alba says. "A pleasure to meet you, Sei."

Sei's smile is bright and dazzling, almost startling Mizuki with its intensity. 

"A pleasure to meet you too, Alba," he says.

***

The rest of the afternoon is pretty much spent showing Alba around the apartment, introducing the Allmate to a new home. Sei seems, Mizuki notices, to have completely relaxed, and when Mizuki offers to get takeout, Sei agrees without any apparent hesitation.

The food is late, of course, because Mizuki had more or less forgotten what day it was and how busy restaurants would be. But it isn't cold, although Sei only eats a slice before pushing it aside. 

"I just don't have much of an appetite," Sei says, at Mizuki's look.

Mizuki opens his mouth, trying to decide how much he should scold versus just accept, but Alba beats him to the punch: "You should be sure to eat enough regardless of appetite. Food is fuel for your body, after all."

It's easier to follow-up than introduce the idea. "Yeah, what Alba said. Even if you might not feel hungry, we've been out walking a lot."

"Mm. Well. Maybe one more slice, then."

Mizuki watches him eat; there's a lot about Sei, he thinks, that's still mysterious. He's gotten more and more of a picture of him throughout the day, has understood that there's some kind of history of abuse there, but it all seems odd. Sei's technologically inclined, he's obviously from a rich family, but his arms are covered with tracks, he's sickly, he's exhausted. Mizuki still hasn't figured out why he's even with Dry Juice.

But maybe it doesn't matter. It matters that it _happened_ , obviously. But, he thinks, it doesn't matter that he doesn't know these things. He'll learn, over time, when Sei's comfortable sharing it. And Sei, too, will learn more about Mizuki, about how he thinks, what he wants. Their interactions will grow based on that knowledge. 

That's part of becoming family.

"It's late," Sei says. "I should go."

"I'll walk you home. It's dangerous out there." Mizuki rises, Alba balanced on his shoulders. "Lots of drunk angry singles ready to pick a fight, I'm sure."

Sei tilts his head, watching him. "No, it's okay. I told you before, I don't worry about violence."

"Yeah, but--" 

"Besides, I'm sure it would be odd for the head of Dry Juice to escort me. A member should be able to stand on his own two feet, right?" Sei rises, demonstratively.

Mizuki laughs, a little awkward. "Nothing wrong with two friends walking together. I don't mind if you don't want me to see your home."

"Mm. It's nothing nice," Sei says. 

"Can't be too bad, by your reaction to how messy my home is."

Sei smiles again, abruptly. "Maybe I live in a literal junkyard and don't want you to see that. Though in that case, a mess would be expected. _Here_ , though..." He trails off pointedly.

"Ouch, ouch. I'll tidy up for next time."

"Next time..." Sei echoes.

"If you want," Mizuki amends. "This was nice, wasn't it?"

Sei ducks his head, still smiling. "...It was nice," he says. "Thank you."

And with that, he heads for the door, waves once, shows himself out.

Maybe it _will_ only be the once. Maybe things will go back to the way they were before, Mizuki thinks; maybe he'll come to the next meeting and be too busy with everything and Sei will sit in the corner and stare into space. 

But he doesn't think so.

"He seemed nice," Alba remarks.

"He did, didn't he?" Mizuki says, and grins at his new Allmate.


End file.
